


Societal Operation for the Department Of Research

by Helixhalifax



Category: Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends, Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types
Genre: 1950s, Angst, Everyone Is Gay, Government Experimentation, Historical, I kind of wrote this as an extension english writing practice, M/M, Mild Gore, Percy/Thomas, Pomas, Sodor's backstory, Unethical Experimentation, also, everyone dies, i am so ashamed, idk I'm really sorry, kind of???, like super mild, me at myself while writing this: its not that deep fam, or as I like to call it, shoutout to my friend Ash who asked me to do this in like 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8356906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helixhalifax/pseuds/Helixhalifax
Summary: Thomas' father seems to be wrapped up in a government conspiracy centered on the Island of Sodor. Together with his friends Percy, Luke, and Victor, Thomas will try and unravel the mystery.Welcome to Sodor.





	

Tom remembered when his father was taken. He was only young then, around five, maybe. His mother never talked about his father much so he didn’t know exactly how old. Tom also remembered finding the little shoe box under his mother’s bed when he was ten. It was full of papers all stamped bright red and top secret. As a ten year old, the most interesting thing to him was a small, folded photo under a thick, heavy, gold medal, depicting a bearded man and some roman numbers. The picture was black and white and faded. It showed a man who was tall, with dark hair being presented with the very same medal that now lay on top of it. On the back of the picture, it read ‘Gustav Schulze, 1943’ in his mother’s cramped style. This little box was the only memorial Ottilie had to her husband and Tom adopted it as much the same. Once he was older, and reading the scientific jargon of the papers was not painfully boring, his fascination moved from the picture and medal and to the great mind of his father.

England was better, he never doubted that for a second, but for his German last name, dead father, Jewish ancestry, and love of science it was still hard. His only friend was a short Irish kid called Luke McNamara. Luke didn’t mind that he was German, and Ireland was neutral in the war so Luke figured it was better if they stick together anyway. Luke was the reason he joined the group. The group met on the first Saturday of every month and was made up of people who did not trust the government. Luke was mainly there because a bunch of his poetry friends went and he liked feeling like there was a cause bigger than himself. The meeting place was the basement of one of the record stores in town. It was owned by this guy called Victor Montano who was originally from Cuba, but whose whole family had been displaced sometime in the war. The record store was dark and musty but he always had good food going, so Tom figured it wasn't so bad.

It was dangerous for them still, even then, even after the war. His mother’s accent was so thick that she feared even a shop assistant hearing it, so he went out for her. She was ageing and he was still only in school, there was only so much he could do, medicine was too expensive. The day came when he took the box out from under her bed and added her pair of thin spectacles and copy of Till We Have Faces to the memorial.

 

He didn't know what else to do. He had been holding back from sharing his father's research with the group. But now he was optionless and parentless. Percy called him up on Sunday night crying. No one in the group trusted Percy. He was richer than most of them combined and his dad was Anthony Denver, head of the Department of Research, well respected in parliament and well feared in the community. Percy was always bringing snacks to meetings but that couldn't make up for the fact that everyone knew that if he ratted them out to his dad they'd be toast. Tom trusted him. There was something about him Thomas just liked. He knew it had to be something important and probably in relation to his father's research, otherwise Percy wouldn't have called him. He pulled his dad's papers from the shelf and stopped himself from calling that he was going out to his empty house, then, still shaking, grabbed his bicycle from the garage.

No one's that far away in London but it was still quite a way from his low end of town to the big ritzy houses where Percy lived. Before he even reached the second step the door cracked open, releasing golden light onto Tom's pale face. Percy held a finger to his lips and pulled him inside by the sleeve of his jacket. The smell of cigar smoke wafted from the lounge room and Percy told it he was going to bed.

Percy's bedroom was massive, bigger than his own living room, Tom suspected. On his bed, waiting for their arrival, was a jumble of papers. Most of them were hand written in Percy's big, smooth font. The rest were official looking, typed, with the seal of a strange government branch on the upper right hand side. Thomas knew them immediately. The same seal rested on the bottommost paper of his father's, a job offer.

Percy sat on his bed, eyes red, but determined. Tom sat as well, pouring over paper after paper, copy after copy, letter after letter, mention after mention of his father.

'Schulze's operation was successful.' 'Professor Schulze's work is progressing.' 'Anthony Denver thanks Gustav Schulze for his contribution speech transcript.' 'A letter from Gustav Schulze to Mr. Denver requesting resources.'

But on top of that, references to the Societal Operation for the Department Of Research. And case file after case file carefully reproduced by Percy.

'Subject 746292 progressing well.' 'Subject 462802754 reassigned name 'James' after adjustment period.' 'Subject 16849's transhuman hybrid operation failed. Subject terminated.'  
Thomas released a shaky breath. Percy matched it. Percy drew a Manila folder from behind him, marked with the same seal. It was why Percy had called Tom here. 'It's bad' he warned. Tom opened it anyway.

Photos. They were horrible. Every stage was documented. The last photo was the only one Thomas could stand to look at. The tall man with dark hair, stood next to Anthony Denver, his customary top hat not at all askew. Their smiling faces matched that of the machine behind them. A human face, beaming out from the front of a train. The same face that had been lying, slack on a silver bench in the photos previously.

Tom was shaking violently, he didn't realise until Percy lightly touched his upper arms. Percy's hands wound their way around to his back, a hug that was too tight to be comfortable but perfectly reassuring. Thomas' hands released the photos and brought themselves up to Percy's hair. Percy whispered something comforting, a tear rolling down his cheek, but Tom cut him off pressing his lips slowly into Percy's.

They climbed out of Percy's window and slid down the tree waiting outside. Percy grabbed his bike and they both raced all the way to Luke's house. Thomas didn't know who else he could trust with this. Luke wasn't going to be much help but Tom would feel better if he knew. Before he was even three pages in, Luke's normally ruddy pink face dried to a pasty green. In the dim light of the moon and a flashlight Luke told them that they needed to go to the record store. Victor would know what to do.

Victor was bleary eyed and his usually perfect hair was nowhere near it, when he finally answered the rocks hitting his window. Seeing three pale boys in the alleyway made his brow furrow as he raced down the stairs. He ushered them in but instead of the basement they headed towards the apartment above. Victor heated up some mixtos and offered them out. In return the boys offered him the documents. Victor's jaw tightened as he read. 'We have to go' he announced upon the final photograph. Percy slid a map across the table. The map had been lifted off of his father's notes some time ago. It showed a little island somewhere near Cumbria. Also according to notes scribbled down by Percy cargo ships moved between the island and the mainland around 9 o'clock every night.

 

Thomas didn't go to school the next day. Instead he stayed in Victor's apartment, drawing up plans and schematics of the island. Percy returned to his house and called in sick to school. He grabbed more plans from his father's desk and rode back to the record store. Luke had to go to school but promised to return as soon as he could. They drew and re-drew, wanting to get as much detail and be as perfect as possible.

Percy sat opposite Tom at the table. They didn't speak all morning. At around 9, Victor left to open the shop. Tom's eyes flickered up to catch Percy's. Percy looked away determinedly. Thomas knew this waste of time was ridiculous. They could die tonight. Tom knew that it was ridiculous doing nothing about it. After all, they could die tonight. He slammed his pencil down.

'What are we doing?’ He asked, dragging his chair around to sit next to Percy.  
'Well, right now I'm drawing up a map of the roundhouse.' Percy said, not drawing, but not looking up.  
Thomas sighed, long and drawn out, waiting.  
'I want to tell you that I'm sorry. For last night. I was emotional. It was my dad. I didn't mean it.' Percy looked up at that.  
'Don't. Don't ruin it. I didn't just call you because it was your dad. I could have called Victor. I called you.'  
Thomas sat back in his seat, trying to comprehend what Percy was saying. Trying to comprehend what he was thinking.  
'What do you mean?' Was what Tom would have said. What he actually got out was 'What do-' before Percy cut him off.  
'I mean' Percy said he leaned in to whisper, just as he did last night. 'I mean I want you to not be sorry.' And he kissed him.

 

They left that night, the four of them. Taking Victor's beat up ford pickup, lights off all the way to the dock at Cumbria. Hiding out behind some storage containers until the last minute. Luke had to jump to get on, as the ship had already started off, away from the dock. They sat, Victor smoked, on the deck behind several massive barrels. Percy went green from the rocking and Tom snaked his hand towards Percy's to give it a reassuring pat, but Percy held it there and squeezed until the bump, which signified they had made it. They sat cramped in the darkness until the yelling had cleared. Their way back was the boat which left again at 4am. That's all they had, seven and a half hours, to get the proof, the pictures they needed to show the media.

It didn't look much different to any normal island town. Most people were at home but some were still bustling about from their work to their homes. The boys kept their heads down. A small white sign bore the name of the town: Sodor. They plunged forward, towards the roundhouse. Thomas' eyelids felt like sandpaper every time he blinked. They reached a building which looked quite old and very weather worn. A large, untamed hedge sprouted from the side of the building. Behind it, they all crouched silently. Tom explained he should go in and that, should he not come back in an hour they should all go for help in the little motor boat they saw at the dock. The rest begrudgingly agreed. The smart thing to do would be for two people to go in, but no one else volunteered. Thomas hugged them all and promised to be back as soon as he could. Percy whispered in his ear to come home safe.

Inside the building was just as dark and depressed as the outside. It had the aura of a mechanics, and the same greasy smell. Thomas began looking for just about anything. Any clue towards his dad. He found himself in the reception. Little signs directed him in different ways. The one bearing 'subject experiment ward' wound its way into the darkness and he headed down the dusty corridor to follow. It was laid out like a hospital. Every room held two beds. But none of them had patients in them.

All he could hear was "subject terminated' repeated over and over in what he approximated to be the voice of his father.

At the end of the hall was a large circular desk like the kind nurses worked at. Though Thomas couldn't imagine why this place would need nurses.

A filing cabinet overflowed with Manila folders like the one Percy stole. He didn't mean to, but he sat, he read. Horror after horror, picture after picture, train after train, grin after grin of his father. How could a man who was related to him possibly do this? At the very back of the very bottom drawer was a file much thicker than the rest. It was labeled 'Gustav Schulze'.  
He didn't think he would ever read anything more sickening than the work his father had done to those people. That was until he read what those people had done to his father. He had been kidnapped and tortured before finally cracking and giving them all of his research. They had intended to kill him, but within that research was his work on memory this served as instruction on how to keep Gustav in Sodor forever. Gustav Schulze had no idea who he was, where he was, or that his son even existed.

A closing door clicked at the end of the hall. Thomas threw down the papers and bolted. The guard must have seen his movement because he heard a shout but he was already gone.

 

Victor was getting itchy. It was well over an hour. Tom wasn't back.  
'I'm going in.' He announced throwing himself up.  
'You heard what Tom said. We should go back.' Percy defended quietly.  
'No, Victor's right. And he's the oldest.' Luke countered , dragging himself up to follow.  
'I'll leave.' Percy threatened.  
Victor and Luke went inside. Percy sat, staring, unseeing at the door.

 

Luke stuck close behind Victor. His hands were that of an academic, not a fighter. Every corner they turned was lit with a red light. Possibly indicating panic but perhaps also just nightlights. Victor's high cheekbones looked unholy in the red. Luke felt unholy in the red.  
Luke's little feet tapped on the floor as they walked down a hall. Maybe if he hadn't been so preoccupied with his fear he would have heard the rustle from around the corner at the end of the hall, but he didn't. Victor's body blocked the first wave. His screaming gave Luke chance enough to fall into one of the rooms off the hall. Peering around the doorway he could see Victor, still shaking violently, with small sparking electrodes protruding from his chest. Only fear held his screams in his throat. Men in thick black combat clothes grabbed Victors ankles and dragged him down the clinical hallway. Silent tears fell down Luke's cheeks, his hands still shaking in fright.

Luke hardly cared where he ran, all that mattered was that he run. He ran up a flight of stairs and through a large windowed room. The lights flicked on on the other side of the windows and Luke fell to the floor in fear. As he peered up over the window edge he saw a large operating theatre. He saw many men in lab coats gather around someone on a stretcher. Luke let out a strangled sob when he saw who it was.

 

He rounded corner after corner desperate to get away but not concerned where to. Thomas was fast, but he wasn't faster than a gun. He was hit in the back and for a second he thought he was fine, they felt like pinpricks. Then a feeling like all of his muscles were cramping at once grew from his back to his hands before spreading down to his feet and up to his head. It wasn't painful, it felt cold and uncomfortable. He hit the ground, and passed out immediately.  
He felt groggy, like after a long nap. The surface under him was cold and hard. His vision was blurry and all he saw were blotches of shadow and light. He registered yelling. Memories of how he had gotten to this place resurfaced slowly. He remembered the pinpricks and then the cramps. He tried to shake himself awake. As his vision grew clearer he noted that the shadow closest to him was a tall man with dark hair. The tall man was yelling at him.

'Thomas! Thomas, can you hear me?' The man freed his hand and touched Thomas' face. 'My son. My Thomas. You have to run! Get out of here. I saw you and I knew it was you.' The tall man with dark hair moved away and Thomas made to follow him. He felt restraints pull against this. He looked down to free himself and realised that restraints were the least of his problems. A large incision had been made into his stomach. What he once would have called internal organs were now technically external and wires, cables, hoses, and pumps were mixed in with them. He looked once again towards his father. Gustav looked back at him from his knees at the far end of the room. Men in lab coats surrounded him, one had a gun pressed to the side of his father's head. A bang reverberated through the room and Gustav stopped looking at his son. Thomas let out a choked scream which was met with a gas mask over his mouth and nose. He passed out again.

 

He wasn't looking for the exit when he found it. His eyes where raw from the horrors they had seen and he pushed through a door at random. Thin cold fresh air hit his mouth. Percy stood up, startled. He grabbed Percy's arm and began to run.

'Wait wait!' Percy stopped. 'What about Thomas? What about Victor? Where are you going?'  
'Dead. Dead. They're dead. I saw them. We have to go.'  
'Dead. No, he can't be. We have to go. We have to help him. This is my fault.'

Percy began to push against Luke, trying to get back to the door. Luke began yelling but Percy couldn't hear. There was a rushing noise in his ears, so loud nothing else could get through. The shout of 'Hey!' from someone only a little way off went unheard by them both. Percy fell first, his leg muscles failing him under the pressure of the electric shock. Luke was upright for a little longer before he too fell.

 

The sky was bright when he woke up. The ship ride over had been long and tiring. A fat man with a top hat smiled down at him.  
'Welcome to Sodor, Thomas.'

**Author's Note:**

> Ok wow. This has been a 3 year work in progress? And it is also the longest thing I have e v e r written. I'm truly sorry if you actually decided to read the whole thing. Also I never made it like explicitly clear but Gustav was the Thin Controller, thought I might mention that. So yeah. I'm going to go and die now, thank you.


End file.
